


sweet lips are your deliverance

by alison



Category: Clean Bandit (Band), Years & Years (Band)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, Violins, i mean that's basically it, oral sex and violins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-11
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-14 05:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4552992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alison/pseuds/alison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>neil probably looks pretty good playing violin in the nude.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweet lips are your deliverance

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to emmy for the title suggestion.

It’s a lazy Sunday, a rare day off for both Neil and Olly. They’ve spent most of the morning relaxing in bed and it’s just what Neil had needed. It’s been getting madder, their schedules completely out of control, but at least there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. It’s distant, far too distant, but it’s there and Neil has been trying to stay focused on that. In the meantime, he savours these odd days off, soaking them in as much as possible before he’s back on the road.

“I need to shower,” he says sometime after noon. He’s only left the bed to fetch them tea and oatmeal and he’s starting to feel a bit filthy. And not in the good way.

Olly frowns at him from his spot, head resting on Neil’s stomach. “You smell fine though.”

Neil smiles lazily, fingers pushing through blonde curls, and lets out a soft little sigh. “I doubt that’s true, but it’s more that I feel a bit disgusting. I’ll only be gone a few minutes, babe.”

Olly frowns some more, but rolls off of Neil, flopping onto his stomach. “Fine,” he says dramatically, drawing the word out.

It’s cute enough to make Neil laugh, reaching down to rub Olly’s back. He likes it when Olly gets clingy; it makes him feel better when he inevitably gets clingy, too. And that happens pretty much daily.

Dropping a kiss to Olly’s back, between his shoulder blades, he heads into the bathroom. He’d pulled a pair of pants on at some point in the morning, so he shucks them, leaving the door open, and hops into the shower. The hot water feels good against his skin, the grimy feeling of staying in bed all day washing away.

Once he’s washed, he grabs a towel and dries himself on the way back into the bedroom. Olly grins at him as he approaches, reaching his arms out, and when Neil gets close enough, he shakes his wet hair, splashing his boyfriend.

“Hey!” Olly squeals, recoiling. “I’m melting, oh god. I might die.”

Neil pounces on him, dipping down to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I think you’ll live,” he murmurs. “Now be a good boy and go wash up yourself or I’ll refuse to kiss you for the rest of the day.” It’s an empty promise, of course, but Olly is nothing if not eager to please.

“Alright, fine,” he says, pinching Neil’s thigh. “But I’m using your conditioner.”

With that, he’s gone, and Neil doesn’t bother yelling after him not to use too much again. The last time, Olly had filled his entire palm with the expensive conditioner and Neil had nearly cried. Hopefully he’s learned his lesson.

With Olly occupied, Neil glances at his violin case on the desk. Even though he knows their songs by heart, could play them in his sleep, he doesn’t ever want to get out of practice. It had been scary when he couldn’t play for a while because his reflexes hadn’t been quite as sharp when he was cleared to play again. It worries him enough that he gets the violin out now, just to play a few scales and maybe a piece or two from school.

Once he gets the violin tuned, he starts simply, drawing the bow back and forth slowly. It’s just a few notes that he chooses at random until they slowly turn into a song, something he remembers from ages ago. He’s improvising a bit due to lack of clear memory, but it doesn’t matter; he’s not got an audience.

As soon as he thinks it, he develops an audience. Olly shows up in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist, and he stares, jaw practically dropped. Neil squints at him but doesn’t keep playing. Following the trail of Olly’s eyes, he looks down, having forgotten that he was naked.

“God, is it my birthday?” Olly asks, stress in his tone.

Neil lifts one eyebrow, intrigued by Olly’s sudden intense interest. He’s played violin around him before, quite a lot, but he supposes he’s never done it completely naked. Certainly in just pants, a time or two.

Stilling his arm, bow resting on the strings, he asks, “Like what you see, do you?”

“No, no, keep playing,” Olly says quickly, stepping forward. “Don’t stop playing.”

Neil only hesitates for a second before he jumps back into the improvised song, figuring he’d like to see what Olly has in mind. He watches closely as Olly moves forward, as close as he can get without an elbow to the face, his hands coming to rest against Neil’s stomach. Neil watches him darkly, his arm moving by grace of autopilot, and his eyelids flutter when Olly’s hands start to trail down his stomach.

And then he’s on his knees in one swift movement, looking up at Neil as his hands continue down, on Neil’s thighs now.

The angle is a bit awkward with his violin tucked under his chin, but he’s able to angle his head down enough to look at his boy kneeling before him. Neil has to focus on keeping his arm moving with each stroke now, back and forth over the strings.

His lips part when Olly leans in, kissing near his cock, but not quite there. Neil isn’t hard yet, but he’s getting there with each of Olly’s kisses, a tease of what’s to come. By the time he’s half-hard, however, he’s getting impatient.

“In your mouth, baby,” he mutters, staring down as Olly meets his gaze.

Olly doesn’t argue, slipping his lips around Neil’s cock. His mouth is warm and nice, always so nice, and Neil hits a wrong note, quickly adjusting to the right one. He tries to focus a bit more on the song, letting Olly’s mouth get him hard as he plays on.

As soon as he’s properly hard, throbbing against Olly’s tongue, Olly takes him deep, buries his face against Neil’s skin. The notes trill as Neil’s hand shakes, his eyes falling shut at the feeling. Olly is always so good at this, so eager to let Neil into his throat.

“So good, sweetheart,” he says over the music, blinking his eyes open again when Olly backs off to take a few gasping breaths. He’s pretty on his knees, his slight frame emphasised, and Neil wants to give him everything he could ever want.

As Olly slides back down, bobbing on Neil’s cock at the perfect rhythm, Neil matches it. He finds a beat in Olly’s movements and plays along with it until they’re completely in sync. He wonders if Olly can tell, speeds up just a bit to see if Olly follows along. He does, staring up at Neil, and it’s clear that he understands, is willing to take direction from Neil’s music.

“Baby,” he mumbles, watching him. “Such a nice mouth. So good for me, aren’t you?” The question is rhetorical but Olly hums in response, his throat vibrating against the head of Neil’s cock.

For a while, he just watches, playing notes that drift gracefully through the air. He enjoys it, doesn’t let it overwhelm him so that he can let it drag out a bit longer. Eventually, though, he finds himself picking up the rhythm, drawing his bow across the strings incrementally faster. Olly follows, keeps the pace that Neil has set, and when Neil starts to tremble with it, Olly brings his hand up, curling his fingers around the base of his cock. He strokes the bottom half, lips tight around the end, and stares up.

The sound from his violin turns a bit weak as he gets close. He manages to keep his arm moving, keeps the music playing as he closes his eyes and drops his head back, but the quality goes to shit as Olly hollows his cheeks, licks at the tip of his cock. Neil feels it wash over him as he draws out a long high note, the sound wavering with his unsteady hand until he starts spilling into Olly’s mouth and he drops his arm.

The sudden silence is almost severe in contrast and he can hear his laboured breath, his low groan, the wet sounds of Olly sucking him through his orgasm. It’s over too soon and Olly stays on him for a few more seconds, his lips lax, before he pulls off with a breathless grin.

Neil still has his bow clutched in one hand, violin in the other, and he smiles disbelievingly down at his boyfriend.

“Well, that was new,” he says, his voice rough, feeling a bit dazed.

Olly laughs a little, soft and light, then tips forward to kiss Neil’s thigh. “Keep playing,” he replies, then peels the towel from his waist, taking his own hard cock in hand. He rests his forehead against Neil’s hip, already moaning from the first touch.

Neil plays, still a little shaky, giving his boyfriend a melody to get lost in while he wanks himself. As he does, he makes a note to himself to get caught playing naked more often.


End file.
